Hero of My Heart (The McRae Series, Book 5 - Will)

by Teresa Hill

  And then the nice nurse and the doctor were done.

  Amanda had sobbed through parts of it, but she'd listened to him, too, and asked a question now and then, and answered questions he asked about what she was willing to try on a bike. He hadn't wanted to scare her, even in that little world he'd tried to create for them.

  He ran out of things to say, and then she asked about her father. "He's coming?"

  "I'm sure he will." Mace would have called the ambassador as soon as he heard their helicopter landed safely in Djibouti, but Will knew the man would want to hear directly from him that Amanda was safe.

  "My father didn't want me in Buhkai," she said sadly. "But I wouldn't listen to him."

  "I think that's a pretty universal thing, Amanda. Doing something you father doesn't want you to do."

  "He actually yelled at me, he was so scared. He never yells at me."

  Because, Will suspected, she was one of those kids who was pretty close to perfect, and it sounded like she adored her father. It would be like Sam yelling, Will thought. Sam would, Will supposed, but he'd have to be really, really mad, and the underlying emotion behind that would be fear for one of his kids or for Rachel, not anger.

  "I should have listened," Amanda said.

  "You didn't know what was going to happen. No one did. A million things can happen. No one can see them all coming. I don't think anyone ever thought militants would take over a school..."

  Shit. Hadn't meant to bring that up, because—

  "Oh, my God! The kids!" She tried to get off the bed, maybe going to find them herself. "My kids! The kids in my classroom. The ones held hostage. My kids!"

  Chapter 16

  Djibouti, Africa

  January 17th

  Will held her down, not thinking until it was too late what a mistake that would be.

  She fought him off with her hands and arms, screaming for him not to touch her. He didn't know what to do. He was clearly terrifying her by hanging onto her, but if he let go, she might leap off the bed and start running, searching for those kids. She wasn't quite all there, in the present, in the hospital, at the moment.

  The nurse ran in, looking worried. "Hang on. Let me get the doctor back."

  So he held on while Amanda tried to fight him off, hating it, knowing he was scaring her, knowing what some other man had done to her to scare her and hurt her even more, a man who'd been able to hurt her because Will hadn't gotten to her fast enough.

  He finally got her arms pinned between his and then pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapped around her. He hung on, hoping if he didn't move at all, she might realize he wasn't going to hurt her and stop being so afraid.

  He got his mouth right up against her ear and started talking to her.

  "It's okay. I won't hurt you, I promise. You're safe here. And the kids in your classroom are all safe. You got them out, Amanda. You were so brave. You're a hero."

  She sobbed and begged him to let her go, begged him not to hurt her.

  "Shh," he said. "It's all right. No one here is going to hurt you. It's all over. All the bad stuff is over now."

  But he didn't believe that, not for her. She'd relive it all, who knew for how long, like she was at the moment, and she'd be terrified all over again.

  She sobbed against his chest, too weak to do anything else, or maybe too scared, and he wondered who'd be holding her the next time she was terrified like this, who'd try to help her through those dark, scary nights.

  Someone had better be there, someone who understood and loved her and would take care of her.

  The nurse came back with a syringe she shot into Amanda's IV. It wasn't ideal, with the head wound, but the doctor had decided having her this agitated was worse.

  Will felt the fear and the tension seep away until she was boneless in his arms, her small, fragile body pressed against his, her head on his shoulder, her face wet with her tears against his neck.

  "There you go," he whispered. "You're just fine."

  He eased her back down onto the bed and wiped her tears away.

  "My kids?"

  "They all got out," he said again, hoping it would sink in, despite the panic and the medication.

  "I thought they were going to hurt my kids."

  "I know. You must have been so scared."

  She nodded, her eyelids sinking over those big, tear-filled eyes as the medication did its job. "He wanted Naaji, and he was so mad at me because Naaji got away. And he... he hurt me."

  "I know. I'm so sorry."

  "He was so strong. I never thought about how much stronger a man could be than a woman, how much it could hurt..."

  Will closed his eyes and leaned his forehead down to hers, trying to block out the images that came to mind. "Go to sleep, Amanda. Please. It's all over now. Just sleep. You're safe now. Try to go to sleep and forget everything."

  She should forget him, too, he realized. All of it. It would be better for her that way.

  "Will you stay with me?" she asked, the words barely audible. "Until my father gets here? My father's coming, isn't he?"

  "I'm sure he will."

  "Stay with me 'til then?"

  "As long as I can," he said, hoping like hell he could put her directly into the care of her father, so he'd know she was safe and she wasn't alone. Will would make her father swear that he'd never let her go to a place like Buhkai again, no matter what.

  She finally fell asleep, still holding Will's hand.

  The nurse came back in a few minutes later and said they'd be monitoring Amanda here until she was either sent on to an American military hospital in Germany or directly to the U.S.

  "She's going to be okay?" he asked. "Physically?"

  The nurse nodded and touched her hand to his shoulder. "You did good. A lot of guys wouldn't have been able to handle it."

  "Yeah? Because I've never wanted out of a room so much in my life, and I've been in some really lousy, scary places." He was still wondering if he could manage not to go outside and throw up, his emotions were so churned up.

  He hadn't done that since he was a little kid, and his mother would get so drunk she passed out. Will would panic and think she was dead. When he was little, that sounded like the worst thing in the world—her being dead. Once he got older, he wasn't sure if he wanted her to wake up or not. Then he realized it didn't matter what he wanted, because he had no control over it anyway. Things didn't get better until he figured out how not to care one way or the other and how to get himself far, far away.

  "We all want out with something like this," the nurse said. "But some of us don't go. You did good. And I should have told you this before, but I thought she needed you more. Half a dozen people are trying urgently to reach you."

  She handed him a stack of message slips.

  "Thank you," he said, looking down at Amanda. He was still holding her hand, didn't want to let it go.

  The nurse left. Will flipped through the message slips, finding exactly what he expected—demands that he call his CO and his CIA contact immediately.

  Instead, Will pulled out his phone and called Ohio. Sam answered, sounding relieved, and put Will on speaker for Rachel and the ambassador.

  "Sir, I'm at Camp Lemonnier, Djibouti, Africa, with your daughter."

  "Oh, thank God. You're with her right now?"

  "Yes, Sir. I'm sitting beside her." Thinking she looked so young and fragile in the big hospital bed. "She's been diagnosed with a concussion and three cracked ribs. She also has some minor cuts and bruises."

  "That's it?" her father demanded. "That's everything?"

  Damn, he did not want to tell the man this, but he wasn't going to lie.

  "Sir, I'm afraid she was sexually assaulted." Will felt fury again over that. "I'm sorry. I hoped I got her out of there before anything like that could happen..."

  He could hear Rachel crying in earnest, Sam swearing softly.

  "I need to speak to her," her father said. "Whoever's in charge over there wou
ld not put my calls through."

  "Sir, she's been given a mild sedative. She's sleeping now, but I told her that you're on your way."

  "A sedative? With a head injury?"

  "She... uhh... got agitated, wondering if all the children got out of the school alive, and her doctor decided to sedate her."

  "The kids taken hostage all got out, Will," Sam said.

  "And two other hostages died," Amanda's father said, "but that's something she does not need to know right now. I'll tell her myself, when I get there. Tell me you got the bastard who hurt her."

  "I wish I could, Sir. I don't know who did it or how many of the militants made it out alive."

  "No one does yet, Will," Sam said.

  "I have a plane waiting at the airport," the ambassador said. "I... I just couldn't stand to take off and be stuck in the air, out of contact, until I knew... But I'll be there as soon as I possibly can. I hope you're still there when I arrive so I can thank you in person for what you did."

  "I wish I could wait, Sir, but I'm hearing that we're going to evacuate all the Americans from Buhkai, including the embassy. They'll want my help with that, since I was actually in the capitol within the last twenty-four hours." And that was a summons he could not ignore much longer.

  It was the only thing that could make him leave Amanda before her father arrived.

  "Will?" Rachel asked, "You're not going back into that country, are you?"

  "Rachel, this is what he does," Sam said. "He knows what he's doing."

  "I do. I promise," Will said. "Sam, don't let her watch that stuff on TV. It's only going to make things seem worse than they are."

  "Sure. Anything else?" Sam asked.

  "Mr. Ambassador, I'm not sure if they told you, but one of the kids said your daughter stayed behind in the classroom to buy them time to escape. It was an incredibly selfless thing to do, and very brave. She must be an amazing woman."

  And then, Will feared, the ambassador was crying on the other end of the phone.

  "She is," he said finally.

  Will promised to call Sam when he was out of Buhkai for good, and then got off the phone. He knew it was time. He had to answer those urgent calls from his CO.

  * * *

  Baxter, Ohio

  Amanda thought he looked like it hurt just to talk about it.

  His eyes had a fine sheen of moisture, and he was striving for one of his carefully blank expressions, but he couldn't pull it off. His jaw was tight, his expression bleak, and he looked so sorry. For her and what she'd been through.

  So, he'd sat there and held her hand while the nurse did the rape exam.

  She knew what they'd done to her. They'd told her when they realized how little she remembered. They'd had to, because she had to have follow-up exams and tests for six months or so, to make sure she hadn't gotten pregnant or contracted any sexually transmitted diseases. In her case, it had also meant stitches, pain, painkillers and reassurances that her injuries wouldn't keep her from someday being able to have a child.

  They'd done those sorts of things to her, and he'd sat by her side the whole time, holding her hand?

  Her face burned. Not with shame. She wasn't ashamed of what had happened to her. At least, not usually. Sometimes she had irrational moments and told herself she'd said the wrong thing to the gunmen, she'd been too strident, she hadn't lied well enough. Sometimes she thought she could have done something to stop it from happening.

  Most of the time, she knew it wasn't her fault.

  So this wasn't shame.

  It was anger that it happened in the first place.

  And, she felt so exposed it took her breath away. She wanted to hide.

  And here he was, watching her, holding onto her ankle because her hands were clenched around her knees and she couldn't pry them off.

  "Do you hate that as much as I hate just the idea of it?" she asked.

  He considered for a moment. She could see the thoughts going through his head. Finally, he said, "It had to be done."

  So he'd done it because that's what he did.

  Like going into that school to rescue her.

  Still... "God, I can't believe you saw that."

  "I didn't see anything. I didn't look," he said. "I just held your hand."

  She didn't know what to say. Reaction was setting in.

  She started trembling, badly, despite trying to hold herself together by wrapping her arms around her knees and squeezing them tightly to her chest. She didn't remember, but she felt the fear, the panic, the urge to scream, to run.

  "Hey, come on." Will let go of her ankle and reached out a hand to her.

  She didn't take it. She had too tight a grip on her own body and wasn't going to let go. She couldn't even look at him.

  He moved over until he was closer to her, his legs still stretched out in front of him. He held out his arm, offering her his shoulder. "Come on. Right here."

  Slowly, she leaned toward him, drawn by his solidness, his innate sense of calm and his offer of comfort. But she couldn't look at him, so she turned her face away while still letting her head rest against his shoulder.

  His arm wrapped around the front of her body at an angle, holding her easily, comfortingly. She wrapped both of her arms around his, holding on tight, and let herself sink into the solid warmth of his side.

  "There you go," he said, and she felt the side of his face pressed against her head. "Just hang onto me. It's all over now."

  But it wasn't.

  Like she was being stalked, the memories were still out there.

  "It didn't... There wasn't any permanent damage," she said finally. "I didn't catch any awful diseases. Not so far. Still testing for some of those. I didn't get pregnant. Thank God. They could have killed me or the kids. I know things could have been so much worse, but then I get scared. I panic and start thinking of nothing but myself, of what they did to me, and I think, what if it always feels this bad?"

  "It won't," he said.

  "You say that, but you've never... Well, I mean—"

  "No, I've never been raped," he said.

  "Have you ever thought you were going to die?"

  "No."

  She was so surprised she raised her head from his shoulder—and she'd really liked having her head on his shoulder—so she could look him in the eye. "How can you say that? You've been in the military for... How long?"

  "Coming up on nineteen years."

  "We've been at war for the last decade," she reminded him.

  "We have."

  "And I suspect you've been in all sorts of situations. Shot at? Had things blow up around you? Lost friends?"

  "Yes, all that."

  "So how can you say you never thought you were going to die?"

  "I don't know. I just didn't."

  "Will?"

  "It's the truth. I've been in some hairy situations where I knew I might die, but I honestly never believed I would."

  "I don't see how that's possible," she said. "You weren't afraid?"

  "Of maybe screwing up. Of letting people down—the guys on my team or people we were trying to help. Of making a wrong call that got other people hurt or killed. That kind of thing."

  "Have you ever been shot?"

  "Dinged," he said.

  "Dinged? What does that mean?"

  "Grazed. You know? Stuff that didn't hit any internal organs or anything important."

  "Blown up?"

  He shrugged. "Enough to get knocked around, but not seriously injured."

  "Held hostage?"

  He was quiet for a minute. That was a question he had to think about?

  Finally, he said, "Define 'held hostage.'"

  "Held against your will by force for a period of time, Will."

  "And the period of time would be?"

  "Is there a minimum time requirement?"

  "I don't know, Amanda. I'd say I've been detained at gunpoint for a while, but not truly held hostage. So, I don't fully understand what y
ou went through. But I still say it's going to get better. It has to, you know?"

  She nodded miserably. "I hope so."

  "If nothing else, you get farther away from it. With time, it's not so close. You go on. You do other things. It gets to be just... some lousy thing that happened to you a long time ago."

  She hoped so, because she couldn't imagine how she'd handle it being this hard for much longer.

  "So, that's it?" she asked a moment later. "There's nothing else you saw or heard that happened to me that I don't know?"

  "Nothing else. I promise."

  "Okay." She sighed, feeling empty and exhausted and... relieved, she supposed. It was all out. No big, scary surprises left. The worst thing coming up in her life was him leaving.

  She felt a rush of fresh tears at the thought.

  "Was I wrong to tell you all of this?" he asked.

  "No. I wanted you to. I insisted. It's not that. I just..."

  Please don't go.

  She couldn't say it. It wasn't fair to him.

  It was just such an amazing thing, to feel safe with a man. She'd never known how important that was until her ordeal in Buhkai.

  "I've always heard that Emma's really good at what she does," he said. "She's taking good care of you, right?"

  Amanda nodded. "And I trust her."

  "Good."

  Which sounded like he might worry about her.

  Would he be out of her life completely?

  She hoped not. It didn't seem right. To never see him again.

  "I'll miss you," she admitted finally, then tried to smile despite how miserable she felt.

  He put that carefully blank expression on his face again. How great would it be to be able to do that? To hide any emotion from everyone?

  "You're going to be okay," he said again.

  She nodded, wanting him to think she believed it.

  "Well, I should be going," she said, getting to her feet and trying to pull herself together.

  He stood up, too. He waited as she grabbed her purse, then walked to his apartment door. He was close, close enough that she had to fight the urge to lean into him one last time, be enveloped by that blessed sense of safety that came from being close to the man.